


A shot in the dark

by DarlingHilson (Mycroffed)



Category: House M.D.
Genre: M/M, Realizing, in love with his best friend
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-19
Updated: 2015-02-06
Packaged: 2018-03-08 06:56:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3199715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mycroffed/pseuds/DarlingHilson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gregory House realizes he's in love with his best friend, James Wilson. Of course, when he decides to act on it, things don't go very smoothly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The realization

Dr. Gregory House didn’t just wake up one day with the resolution of falling in love with his best friend, Dr. James Wilson. On the contrary, it started slowly, very slowly. At first, he couldn’t help but smile as he stole one of Wilson’s fries at lunch. The next step was looking for his genuine smiles, wanting to make them happen because they brightened up his day.

But it wasn’t until he woke up in the middle of the night after a rather suggesting dream about him and Wilson that he actually realized he loved his best friend. He slowly rolled over in his bed and glared at the clock. 2 am. Great. He sighed relieved as his phone started to ring with the tune of the team.

He picked up. “Yes?”

Foreman started to introduce the newest case, but House wasn’t really listening to it, he was still too distracted from the thing his brain made up.

“House?” Foreman sounded a bit worried, even though he always tried to hide it. “Are you still there?”

“Yes. Start to do these tests.” He started to list all the tests he thought the patient would need.

“Are you coming over?”

House actually considered that, but he sighed. He needed some more sleep and maybe even some masturbating. “I’ll see you in the morning.” He snapped before he hung up.

 

*

 

When House limped into the hospital, he glanced over at Cuddy. He was thinking about embarrassing her a bit – or a lot – but he spotted Wilson first. He wanted to rush over to him and kiss him and smother him with hugs. But he needed to figure out how the oncologist felt about him. So he ignored the younger doctor as well.

Wilson walked over to him and smiled. “Morning. How are you today?”

House just stared at Wilson for a bit. His brain was coming up with all sort of answers, but he just couldn’t decide what to say, which was unusual for him.

“Hello, earth to House?” Wilson waved his hand in front of his eyes.   

“Yes, I’m fine.” House smiled weakly. “Not on Vicodin, not hallucinating and perfectly fine.”

“Why are you so defensive all of a sudden? I ask you this every day.” The oncologist looks worried at House.

“I’m still fine.” He ignored the younger doctor and walked over to his office where his team was waiting with the results of the tests.

 

*

 

Wilson was confused with the reaction of his best friend. What had changed overnight that House would not talk to him without getting nervous and defensive? He shrugged. It was probably just the leg hurting or something like that. He walked over to the clinic – one of the results of House’s last prank with Cuddy – for his last couple of clinic hours. He took one of the files and quickly read it through. All the symptoms looked like a simple cold, so he should be out of that room quickly.

“So… Mr.” he quickly looked the name up in the name. “Smith. “ He smiled reassuringly. “So how do you feel exactly?”

 

*

 

House was sitting behind his desk, resting his head on his hands. Wilson. His best friend. He was in love with his best friend. His brain was working in overtime while he tried to find a solution to this. He sighed. He couldn’t possibly figure this out with only four hours of sleep – because, surprise surprise, he hadn’t slept after the Wilson dream – so he got up and sat down in his chair, closing his eyes and slowly falling asleep, hoping that he wouldn’t have another dream.

 

*

 

When Wilson looked back up to the patient to see him holding a gun and pointing it at him.

“Now, there’s no need to overreact, how about you just put the gun down...” He held his hands up in defense.

“Get me House in the next hour or I’ll shoot you.”

“And how am I supposed to do that when you point a gun at my head?”

“Call someone. You’re not leaving until House is here.” The man’s hand was trembling, making the chance that he’d shoot him by accident bigger.

Wilson nodded and walked over to the phone in the room. He called House first, but since he wasn’t picking up, he then moved on to his team.

It was Chase who picked up this time. “Yes?”

“Hi, Chase.” He started nervously before quickly explaining the situation. “So please get him in under an hour, or I’m dead.” He sounded nervous and it was only now that he realized he was trembling on his feet.

Chase didn’t even say anything to him and just hung up, which Wilson presumed was a good sign, that he was going to look for House immediately.

59 minutes left.


	2. The arrival

45 minutes passed. 45 minutes during which Wilson couldn't help but think that House wanted him to die. He had been forced to lie down on the bed, another nurse called in to make sure the make-shift bonds were secure. And they were, he couldn't move an inch either way. He had given up after three minutes, when the bonds had started to cut into his flesh. He hadn't seen the blood on his wrists, but the look of the man with the gun told him enough.

That was another mystery. Who was this man exactly? And what did he want with House? House... House still hadn't returned. He glanced over to the clock once more, hoping that the time would go slower, give House more time to arrive. But no such luck. Another five minutes had passed.

He didn't want to die. He remembered House telling a patient of his that you couldn't die with dignity and Wilson realized that he might be right. If he died right here, it might be a martyr's death, but the gunman would just find another doctor to hold under shot until House arrived. There were three other members of his team, there was Cuddy, plenty of people to torture House with. He supposed he needed to feel honored in a way that he was being chosen, being held captive in his own workplace. The outside world must've noticed that he and House were more than friends. They were the best of friends.

But it was when the clock hit the mark of fifty-five minutes after the deadline had been set, Wilson suddenly started to doubt if he had misjudged his so called best friend.

 

*

 

Chase had been running around for almost 45 minutes now. He had been to all the usual places House normally went if he wanted to hide from the world - or even better, Cuddy. He had checked all the empty examining rooms, all the occupied and while he was down there anyway, he alerted Cuddy of the situation. She had immediately agreed to help him find House after sending security towards the room the poor Wilson was in.

After the clinic, Chase had moved on to the office. Nobody had been there either. By this time, he had already lost 15 minutes and his heart started to beat fast and hard. What if he couldn't find the diagnostician in time? What if the oncologist died? He couldn't let it come to that. He knew that it would destroy the little bit of kindness and good moods immediately. He needed to find this stubborn doctor.

He had started to visit coma guy - numbers one, two and three, all in separate rooms - but it wasn't until he left the former one's room that he realized where House might be. The morgue. So he dashed down the stairs, still young enough and free of injuries to be able to do that. He banged on the door, trying to snap House out of whatever mood he was in. There was a loud shout from inside, disturbed by the sounds of a cane hitting the ground quite angrily. Chase actually thanked god that he had finally found this stubborn man.

 

*

 

House had been annoyed at first that the Australian doctor had interrupted his nap. How dared he! He knew that his little nap was holy. But the man didn't give up, so eventually, House got on his feet and limped towards the door. He quickly opened it and snapped.

"What?!" He was in an awful mood and this didn't help.

"It's Wilson." The intensivist muttered. "He's being held under shot."

House immediately left the room he had been sleeping in and while he limped towards the elevator, he launched questions at Chase until he knew the full extent of the situation. With every answer, his heart fell. Wilson. His best friend and the man he loved could die because of him. He walked a little faster and asked Chase how much time they had left. Seven minutes. It was only two minutes later that House barged into the room that held the oncologist captive.

One look at the man told him exactly how serious the situation was. He was holding on for dear life to the gun, ready to shoot any second. Wilson himself was bounded to the bed, wrists bloody from where the bondages had cut him. The look in the oncologist's eyes was what made him snap though. Wilson looked relieved somehow. Like he hadn't trusted House to arrive here in time. He was a bit hurt by that, but he dismissed it immediately. He could talk to him about that later, first, we needed to solve this case and get him free.

The man with the gun demanded his attention, so House threw a quickly glance his way. It was obviously a homeless guy. Teeth were yellow from the cigarettes he smoked every minute of every day, his hair long and untended, his beard messy. There could be so many things wrong with the man. Great, House sighed, a man in need of medical attention with no other way to get it but violence. At least that was what the gunman thought.

"So what do you want?" House snapped.

The gun was grabbed a bit more tight but House didn't as much as blink. He wasn't scared of the gun, he had been shot before and he had healed quite nicely.

"I need you to release my wife. 

House's eyes widened. He hadn't expected this. He wouldn't have been surprised if the man would have demanded that he'd take his case, but no, he just wanted his wife.

"She's your latest case." He explained. "And you have done nothing good! You're killing her and I want her back."

House sighed once again and looked over at Wilson. Could he give up a case, a very intriguing case, for the life of his best friend? Oh who was he kidding, of course he could. Wilson had been there too long, he would be missed the moment he was gone. House got up and started to limp to the door to get the dischargement papers.

"Where do you think you're going?" The homeless guy snapped. "You're not leaving, not until I've got my wife here safe and sound. Send one of your little helpers."

So House paged Chase, explained what he needed to do and sighed once again as he watched the doctor leave. Their lives were in his hands now. In a way.


	3. The solving of the case

Wilson was still stuck on the bed when Chase returned with the man's wife. He heard House's groan as he was forced to let go of his unfinished buisiness, of the unsolved case and he tried to send body signs that would calm him down. It didn't work of course, he wasn't some wizard, but he tried anyway. He needed to reach out to his best friend and calm him down. When the wife coughed again, Wilson spotted the blood on her hands and now he groaned as well. He wanted to help - he needed to help! House always mocked the fact that he cared too much, but as a doctor, it had only motivated him more to find a cure that worked for his patients.

The woman collapsed in the man's arms and he lowered the gun slightly. He checked his wife over, to see if she was okay and it was at that point that House had to try to diagnose her.

"It's not lupus," he mumbled to himself. "Nor is it autoimmune or any type of STD." He went through a whole list of diseases that didn't respond to the symptoms the woman had. It was almost as if he was going through every disease he knew, just to be sure he didn't miss anything. Wilson knew what House was doing and he tried to help.

"It's not cancer either." The oncologist whispered. "No tumors on any scan."

House looked up and glanced over at him appreciative. He continued to list more diseases and Wilson kept adding suggestions. The two men quickly stopped whispering and moved on to talking, which led to the couple hearing it and the man raising his gun. He ordered them to shut up, to stop trying to save his wife, but House simply couldn't let go. He had stopped talking, but Wilson could see the radars in his head spinning. And god knew he approved, but there could be a better time for Gregory House to be stubborn.

The man was content with the state his wife was in and slowly helped her on her feet again. It was when she was standing, a bit wobbly on her legs but apart from that perfectly fine to the eye, that House had an aha-Erlebnis. He opened his mouth to start talking, but the man with the gun grabbed the trigger tightly. This wasn't going to work. Wilson wanted to help, cause a distrzction, but he wasn't sure if that would help. The diagnostician eventually turned to the oncologist and quickly explained what the wife had. It was a rare genetic disease that was made worse with steroids, painkillers or any type of drug. There was only one, very specific drug that could stop the disease from developing. House's hand slipped down in his pocket, where he grabbed his pager and quickly sent the answer to this case to his minions.

The man was - luckily enough - unaware of what was happening outside the room. He could see Chase getting a message, but he couldn't see who it was from. He frowned and glanced over at House, but that man was just staring at the ceiling as if doing that would make it crumble and collaps on them all. Not that he wanted it, but that's what it looked like. Once he looked away, the diagnostician smirked triomphantically. It had worked. Wilson couldn't help but smile slightly.

A smile that dissapeared as soon as the man spotted the silent communication between the two men. "What's going on here?"

House started with some ridiculous story about his patient who was dying from something but he hadn't known what and now he had finally figured it out. Everyone with a working set of brains knew he was talking about the wife, but the man was either an idiot or just completely deaf and blind. Wilson opted for the idiot explanation. That meant that not only the man was slow-witted, but also unattentive and missing the obvious clues. It was because of this that the man missed the whispering between the team members at the other side of the window. It was because of this that he didn't register Cuddy writing a note for some drugs at the pharmacists downstairs and it was because of this that he didn't see Cameron grab the paper and run down to get it.

Wilson looked back over to House, who was in his post case bliss. Even though eventually, this had turned out to be a simple case, he was still high on the adrenaline that came with solving it. It was one of House's less dangerous addictions. Most of the time at least. Sometimes, his addiction ended up with him stuck on a bed and both of them at gunpoint. Wilson sighed. This was a dangerous situation, but he had to admit that he wasn't as scared as before, not now that House had found the answer. The team was working on it and Cameron would soon return with the drugs. Once that was taken care of, House would find a way to get the drugs inside the patients system and then they would be safe. Patient cured, man and wife live happily ever after, but most of all, they could go free. Free and preferably not dead.

Alison Cameron returned after five more excrusiating minutes. She was panting from all the running she had been doing and Wilson could almost hear her breathlessly explaining what had happened. House glared angrily at his junior, he didn't want to be in this situation anymore and to be hobest, neither did Wilson. The glare was apparently a sign, because now, Chase came running in and he quickly inserted the wife with the drugs. House nodded. Mission completed, patient cured.

What the diagnostician hadn't counted on, was the reaction of the husband. The man saw this step as treason against the agreement and pointed his gun at Wilson. It was as if everything that happened after this point, happened in slow motion. Wilson realized that the man had pulled the trigger and somehow, he saw the bullet leave the gun. At the same time, he felt movement. Next to him. It was House, he realized. He frowned slightly. What the hell was the man doing? He was going to get shot this way. He opened his mouth to warn him, he'd rather catch the bullet himself, but his body betrayed him. His voice returned to him when the world reclaimed his normal speed. He heard the sound of ribs crashing with the bullet as he called out to House. He was top late, of course he was too late. And even if he hadn't been, there was nothing he could do but wriggle around on the bed. He saw his best friend look down at his stomach in surprise and then clench it. The man quickly tried to flee, but security arrested him. By the time the man was lying on the ground, House had fallen down on his knees, his team was rushing into the room and trying to get the bullet out. House was raised onto a brancard and it was only after the diagnostic and his team had left that Cuddy freed the oncologist. She sighed softly as she whiped his tears away.

"He's going to be fine." She whispered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to put this story on hold for a bit. I will finish it one day, I promise, but right now I'm working on a different story (Hilson once again) and I love it a lot. I'll start posting it in a couple of days (when my Doctor Who story is finished) But I promise right now that I will come back to this as soon as that is finished. Cross my heart and hope to die. Terribins tickle me if I lie. Lots of love.


End file.
